


Day 20: All wrapped up

by ConsultingPurplePants



Series: 25 Days of Fic-Mas (originally posted to tumblr) [20]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Because Sherlock is like that, M/M, Sex for Christmas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-20
Updated: 2015-12-20
Packaged: 2018-05-07 23:19:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,792
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5474222
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ConsultingPurplePants/pseuds/ConsultingPurplePants
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock gives John sex for Christmas.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Day 20: All wrapped up

"John! John, it’s Christmas!”

The insistent whisper doesn’t let up, and John finds himself blinking one bleary eye open. The first thing he takes in is Sherlock, who for some reason has put his pyjamas and dressing gown back on. They had fallen asleep naked, and now John is disappointed.

“Sherlock, what time is it? And why are you dressed?” He rubs his eyes, trying to get himself awake enough for whatever is coming next.

“It’s nearly eleven, John, you’ve been asleep for hours! And because we have to open presents! We can’t just go into the sitting room naked, Mrs. Hudson probably wouldn’t appreciate it…” Sherlock trails off as he leaves the room, his dressing gown flaring dramatically behind him. John chuckles to himself as he drags himself out of bed and hunts for his own pyjamas. Once he’s tracked them down (shirt under the pillow, bottoms under the bed), he pulls them on and heads out to the sitting room, where Sherlock is already sitting cross-legged next to the tree and the small pile of gifts beneath it. John smiles at him and goes to sit down next to him.

“All right, I’m up. I suppose you wanna go first?” Sherlock tries to look solemn, but his eyes are dancing with his eagerness, and John grins widely as he offers him a brightly-wrapped box. Sherlock shakes it gently near his ear, and John swats at him playfully.

“Just open it, love. You’ll find out what it is much faster that way.”

Sherlock narrows his eyes at him before tearing off the paper and opening the box to reveal a beautiful cashmere scarf. He runs his hands over it a bit before pulling it out of the box and trying it on.

“It’s to replace the one that suspect slashed up with the box cutter. I mean, I’d much rather he slice up the scarf than your neck, but I know you loved that scarf.”

John smiles at Sherlock and leans forward to help him adjust the scarf around his neck. Sherlock tilts his head down to give him better access, then pulls John in for a hug.

“Thank you, John. It’s wonderful,” he tells the top of John’s head, and John pulls back to give him a quick peck on the nose before he opens his own gift.

Sherlock reaches down to hand him a small, incredibly light box, a mischievous glint in his eyes. John cautiously takes the box and shakes it.

Sherlock does his worst imitation of John. “ _Just open it, love. You’ll find out what it is –,_ ” he stops when John pokes at his thigh, giggling.

“Fine, I had that one coming,” John laughs before tearing the paper off his own box, pulling it open to reveal a single piece of paper. Lifting it to eye level, he reads, _You’ll just have to unwrap me_. He looks up at Sherlock in confusion, but Sherlock’s not having it. He shuffles forward and climbs into John’s lap, his legs sticking out behind John as they sit chest to chest, and John figures out what he’s supposed to be unwrapping. He grins up at Sherlock.

“So it’s like that, is it?”

Sherlock tilts his head down to capture John’s mouth, licking into it until they’re both panting.

“Aren’t you going to unwrap your gift?” Sherlock asks, his voice an octave lower than usual, and John can’t help but laugh again.

“That was the worst line I have ever heard!”

Sherlock leans down and drags his tongue up the side of John’s neck until he reaches his ear. He nips at John’s earlobe before whispering, “But is it working?”

John shivers and decides that yes, it is in fact time for him to unwrap his gift. He reaches up to push Sherlock’s dressing gown off his shoulders, letting it drift to the floor as he mouths as Sherlock’s pulse point. Sherlock breathes out a moan when he runs his tongue over it, and John slides his hands under Sherlock’s old t-shirt to feel his skin. He runs his hands down Sherlock’s back as he pulls him closer.

“John. Do you understand the concept of unwrapping? Because if I’d thought it would be this complicated to obtain Christmas sex –,” he cuts off as John pulls the t-shirt over his head, finishing his sentence with a perfectly dignified _mmmmpphhh_. John takes full advantage of having Sherlock’s chest right there in front of him and tilts his head up so he can lick at one of his nipples. Sherlock squirms in his lap, letting out quiet little whimpers whenever John grazes it with his teeth. John reaches his other hand up to pinch at Sherlock’s other nipple, and Sherlock grinds their cocks together through their pyjama bottoms. John is just starting to enjoy the squirming when Sherlock says, rather urgently, “John! You have to – there’s more…”

John reluctantly takes his mouth off Sherlock’s chest and looks up at him.

“There’s more what?” he asks, hand still twisting at Sherlock’s nipple. Sherlock pants out his reply. “You have to… unwrap…”

John releases Sherlock’s nipple, ignoring Sherlock’s whimper into his neck, and reaches down to remove Sherlock’s pyjama bottoms, peeking inside as he does. “Is this what you want me to… _Oh._ Oh, Sherlock…”

John rearranges Sherlock so he can pull the bottoms off, then sits him back down where he was, and this time, Sherlock is wearing nothing but a bright red, lacy thong with a garish Christmas-y bow tied right over the crotch. His cock is straining against the front of it, and just the head is peeking out the top, the bow framing it nicely. John licks his suddenly dry lips.

“Do you like it?” Sherlock asks breathlessly, clearly not taking in the fact that John’s irises have been completely obliterated by his dilated pupils. Rather than answer, John bends forward and takes just the bow-decorated tip of Sherlock’s cock into his mouth. Sherlock gasps, his arms coming out behind him for support. John licks mercilessly at the slit before swirling his tongue all around the head, and Sherlock arches his back over John’s outstretched legs, panting.

“Can’t you deduce it, love?”

John gives Sherlock a predatory grin as he mouths along the satiny front of the pants, licking through them until Sherlock can feel the wet heat of John’s mouth almost as if he were naked. Sherlock’s moan turns into a shout when John presses his knuckles into Sherlock’s perineum while sucking hard at the head. John pulls off and rubs his hands down Sherlock’s body.

“Wanna turn over for me?”

Sherlock obliges, turning so that he’s on all fours over John’s legs. John reaches forward to reverently pluck at the back of the thong. It’s a single line of lacy fabric that goes down Sherlock’s cleft, and he strokes his hands down Sherlock’s arse cheeks, watching as they swallow the lace. Sherlock makes an impatient sound and John nips at one cheek. “It’s _my_ present, isn’t it?”

Sherlock huffs somewhere around John’s feet, and John chuckles before licking the lace directly over Sherlock’s hole. He soaks through it, rubbing it over Sherlock’s entrance with his tongue as Sherlock thrashes in his hands. John grabs his hips to hold him still as he methodically loosens the muscle with his tongue, Sherlock’s breathless moans going straight to his cock. He thrusts his tongue inside, making Sherlock cry out, and wiggles his tongue around until Sherlock’s arms give out and he collapses onto John’s legs. Sherlock is a whimpering mess, and he’s absolutely gorgeous. John gives a chaste kiss to Sherlock’s left arse cheek before asking, “Lube?”

“ _The box –_ ,” Sherlock manages to gasp out, waving an arm vaguely behind him. John takes a look inside, and sure enough, there’s a packet of lube in the box as well. Sherlock had planned this out quite well. He slathers some on his fingers before searching for Sherlock’s prostate, knowing he’s found it when Sherlock cries out against his knees. He feels John, please being panted out into his legs and he pulls his fingers back out of Sherlock so he can pull off his own clothes. He gets a hand under Sherlock’s chest and pulls him up towards him.

“Turn around, love.”

John helps Sherlock turn so that they’re face to face again, and pulls the lacy string aside to let Sherlock sink down onto his cock. They both hiss once he’s fully seated, trembling in John’s lap, and John can’t resist leaning up to suck on Sherlock’s nipples again, rubbing his hand against Sherlock’s lace-confined cock at the same time. Sherlock moans loudly and starts to rock up and down as John runs his hands all over his chest and back. Sherlock throws his head back as John rubs his thumb against his slit, and gasps out, “John, touch me, please.”

John reaches through the side of the thong to give Sherlock one long stroke from root to tip, then groans as Sherlock’s internal muscles clench around his cock in response. John feels himself getting close and starts to stroke Sherlock in earnest. Sherlock’s every exhale is a moan, now, and John leans back so he can take in the full tableau of Sherlock, wearing nothing but a red, lacy thong, his head thrown back as he impales himself on John’s cock over and over again. It’s easily the hottest thing he’s ever seen, and it only gets hotter when he feels Sherlock’s cock twitch in his hand as he gasps out, “John! _I’m close, I’m close, I’m –_ ,” and freezes completely, his cock spurting over John’s hand. His arse clenches rhythmically around John and John buries his face in Sherlock’s chest as he spends himself inside him. They collapse onto the floor together, and on the way down Sherlock’s hair gets stuck in the Christmas tree and makes pine needles rain down on the two of them.

John takes a moment to brush all the needles out of his face, then starts laughing. He’s shaking with it, and Sherlock looks confused for a moment before joining in, and neither of them can stop.

“You got me sex for Christmas!?”

John pulls him closer as he erupts into fresh peals of laughter. Sherlock harrumphs at him, but his lips are twitching as he retorts, “I got you myself in a luxury red lace thong!”

John laughs even harder at that, and they lie under the pine needles until the shaking subsides and they’re just breathing heavily against each other. Sherlock gives him a soft, lingering kiss, then grins down at him, the echo of his laughter still on his face.

“Happy Christmas, John,” he says, and John hugs him close as he replies, “Happy Christmas, Sherlock.”


End file.
